


I'm Sorry. There, I tried.

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mentioned Laura Hale, Mentioned Talia Hale - Freeform, Pre-Slash, mentions of canonical deaths, post-s4, references to Paige and Kate, references to the Hale house fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small notebook — Stiles wonders for a moment what it was even good for, since his A4-sized notebooks barely hold all the class notes and assignments —with “Derek S. Hale” written neatly on the front, the ink not faded at all. He found it in the vault, while they were trying to figure out how to <i>not</i> die from whatever poison that affected all the were-creatures. At the time, he didn’t dwell on it — what with the imminent death and all — but it found its way into his pocket and later onto his desk before he completely forgot about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry. There, I tried.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: In an attempt to fight off my writing funk, I collected a bunch of [AU prompts](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/prompts) on a page, and this one caught my eye.

It's not like he didn't know that Derek used to go to BHS. Of course he did, it's the only school in town and Stiles _does_ remember him from before. But it's one thing to know it, and a whole another thing to hold proof of it in his hands.

A small notebook -- Stiles wonders for a moment what it was even good for, since his A4-sized notebooks barely hold all the class notes and assignments --with "Derek S. Hale" written neatly on the front, the ink not faded at all. He found it in the vault, while they were trying to figure out how to _not_ die from whatever poison that affected all the were-creatures. At the time, he didn't dwell on it -- what with the imminent death and all -- but it found its way into his pocket and later onto his desk before he completely forgot about it.

Months later, in an attempt to clear out his room before packing up for college, Stiles hisses in pain when the notebook's edge slides against his finger and _fuck_ , papercuts are the _worst_. The sting lessens when he sticks the injured finger into his mouth, and he glares at the offending paper for a moment before he realizes what it is.

There's a corner sticking out at the back of it, a paper that doesn't belong to the notebook itself, and Stiles frowns at it as he flips to the page. It's an envelope, covered in doodles of a frowning face that vaguely resembles Derek, and Stiles chuckles. The glue that held the envelope closed has come off, which lessens Stiles' guilt about opening it and peeking inside. There's only one sheet of paper, obviously ripped out of a different notebook and folded neatly. The handwriting is not one Stiles has seen before, but it feels somehow familiar anyway.

_Dear Der-Bear._

Even as he gasps and his mind tries to decide between finding it amusing and endearing, Stiles' eyes drift to the bottom of the page.

_Your favorite sister,  
Lala_

"Shit," he mutters and almost folds the paper back so he can hide it.

But curiosity gets the best of him, and before he can think about what he's doing, his eyes are back at the beginning of the letter, and the words are searing themselves into his brain.

_Dear Der-Bear._

_Mom keeps insisting on us figuring out this argument that is still entirely your fault, by the way. For the record, I am writing this under the threat of losing my allowance AND full moon runs for the next year, so please do inform her that I have done my half of this._

_You're wrong, you know? The thing we argued about, how you've changed after Paige and how you're not good enough to inherit the Alpha role anymore because of that. It's why I wasn't backing down -- Mom doesn't know what the argument was, by the way, or why you shifted and snapped at me -- though I'm sorry that I helped you think that you're failing at your control._

_You're not bad, Der, no matter what your brain is trying to tell you. I don't think you knew, but Paige talked to me, before -- no, she didn't know what we are, it wasn't my secret to tell, not to her -- and she had plans. If you'd asked, she'd have taken the bite from Mom. Or you, when the time came. And it would've ended up the same way, with her not making it. Some people just … it doesn't work. But it's not your fault, baby bro. It was never your fault. If you're not willing to believe me, or to believe in yourself, I don't know if we can stop arguing about this. Mom wants us to, but I can't give in and let you think about yourself like that. You're my brother, Der-Bear, and I know you're not a bad person. I hope this helps you believe it a little, but if not, I'll keep trying._

_Your favorite sister,  
Lala_

Stiles feels his eyes sting as his eyes scan over the last few words of the letter, his fingers shaking around the pristine paper. He wonders if Derek ever read the letter -- the envelope wasn’t closed anymore, but the paper doesn't show signs of being handled. Maybe Laura had this with her before they left, maybe she left it in the vault for Derek to find. Stiles knows what happened after, of course, and figures Laura would've added more to it -- did she even know about Derek's link to the fire?

"Where did you find that?"

Derek's voice comes from the shadows of Stiles' room, the hard edge of it impossible to miss, and Stiles freezes, his hands now shaking enough to make the letter tremble.

"The vault," Stiles whispers. "I'm sorry, I didn't… it was there when we were locked inside and it seemed like just a notebook from class, like the projects that were on the shelves. I didn't know this was in it until just now, and it was open and… god, Derek, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"No, you really shouldn't have," Derek growls, but when he steps closer, there isn't as much anger in his expression as Stiles is expecting. "She wrote these a lot, you know?"

"Laura?"

"Yeah," Derek nods and sits down next to Stiles. "Mom always used to make us talk things out, but Cora and I… neither of us was willing to get out of our rooms, so Laura started writing letters at some point. The first one literally just said ' _I'm sorry. There, I tried. Laura_ '," Derek's voice colors with amusement at the memory. "Mom made her stay inside for two full moons after that."

"What prompted this one?" Stiles asks with caution, willing to take a shrug and no explanation from Derek.

"Mom suggested I start training for my full Alpha shift," Derek whispers. "It was… it was after Paige, and just around when I met…" he pauses, and Stiles reaches a hand out to put it over Derek's to let the werewolf know he doesn't have to continue. "I didn't tell Mom, I avoided everyone for a week, and Laura cornered me one day to try and talk to me. She wasn't supposed to… I didn't _want to_ , not even before Paige died, but Mom always knew I had the ability to shift fully. Laura didn't, not until New York," Derek speaks slowly, like it's hurting him, but like he wants to get it out.

Stiles realizes that it's very likely that no one knows these things, that Derek is trusting him with bits of him he probably never told anyone, and it's almost too much. His fingers tighten around Derek's, and he leaves his eyes locked on their clasped hands.

"Laura yelled at me," Derek chuckles. "Back then, she was a head shorter than me, and she tried to push me so I would listen. I shifted and almost bit her, only Mom stepped between us just before I did. Then she grounded us both and told us we weren't allowed out until we both apologized. I think my letter was even shorter than Laura's first one ever."

"Was that the start of your lack of verbal communication?" Stiles can't help but tease a little, though he almost slaps himself before he hears Derek chuckle.

"Yeah, maybe," Derek says and shrugs. "Laura left this in the notebook, and I told her I read it, but I didn't. Not until when we were leaving for New York. Of course, by then there were a lot of things that proved she was wrong."

"She wasn't," Stiles says after a few beats. "Der, you have to know by now that she was not wrong."

Derek shrugs, and tries to pull his hand out of Stiles' grip.

"You're not a bad person, Derek," Stiles says and twists so he can look at Derek properly. "What happened with Paige, or what happened with Kate… those weren't _your_ fault. Peter wasn't either, the first, the second, _or_ the third time. None of any of it makes you a bad person."

" _Stiles_ ," Derek groans. "Don't…"

"Derek, no, I'm not backing down on this. You're _not_ a bad person. Or a bad werewolf," Stiles pauses and then adds with a smirk, "you're a pretty badass wolf, actually."

Derek arches an eyebrow when he finally looks at Stiles.

"What? Do you seriously expect me to _not_ be impressed by your full wolf shift? Have we met?"

It's then that Derek laughs properly, at Stiles' words and the slightly incredulous expression in his face.

"So…" Stiles looks at Derek expectantly when Derek doesn't say anything for a while. "Der-Bear?"

"Try it and I'll rip your throat out…" Derek growls, but then pauses because Stiles immediately bursts into laughter.

"With your teeth, yadda yadda, I _know_ ," Stiles manages to say as he's laughing. "Good to know you're consistent with the threats, Der-Bear."

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek grumbles and finally pulls his hand out of Stiles' grasp.

"Make me," Stiles blurts out and freezes.

All of a sudden, the tension in the room is thick enough that it's almost suffocating. Derek lifts an eyebrow and watches as Stiles' lips part like he's about to say something again. Instead of letting him, Derek leans in and presses his own lips against Stiles', holding his breath as he listens for Stiles' heartbeat. It stutters a little, but then it's steady -- even though a little faster than usually -- and Stiles' arms are wrapping around Derek's neck as he returns the kiss.

"Whoa, so…" Stiles mumbles when they pull away a little, his cheeks flushed and Derek can smell so many things off of Stiles that it takes a while to process and sort them all out. "That just happened."

"Yeah," Derek says, licking over his lip to chase the taste of Stiles.

"You… kissed me."

"I did."

"To shut me up."

"I guess."

"Derek?"

"Stiles."

"Was it…" Stiles' heartbeat is racing now and Derek wants to do something -- anything -- to stop the panic that's rising above everything else that he can sense on Stiles. "Was that all that it was?"

"No," Derek says without hesitation. "No, it wasn't."

"Oh."

Instead of answering, Derek leans back in and kisses Stiles again. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he wonders if failing to wait until Stiles was of legal age is another tick in the "bad person" column that he still has filed away, but as Stiles hums against his lips, Derek decides to have that argument with himself later.


End file.
